


Oh, It's Christmas

by wherethefigslie



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-06
Updated: 2013-02-06
Packaged: 2017-11-28 10:00:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/673149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wherethefigslie/pseuds/wherethefigslie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock thinks it's amazing he's gone thirty-three years without ever having decorated a Christmas tree.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh, It's Christmas

"What do you think?" John asks, nodding to the short, somewhat scraggly tree he'd said would fit perfectly in the corner of the living room.

Sherlock thinks it's amazing he's gone thirty-three years without ever having decorated a Christmas tree. They'd always had a false one, every year. Mummy didn't want the pine needles on the carpet. Sherlock had tried, when he was quite young, to get Mycroft to decorate it with him but to no avail. "They hire people for that sort of thing," his brother had sniffed disdainfully, and that was the end of that.

He thinks of the dreadful Christmas dinners he'd had to endure, where everyone pretends to like each other and they dress in their Sunday best and the kitchen staff makes a special dinner and oh isn't this lovely? Sherlock isn't one for the 'poor little rich boy' routine, he finds it awful and cliched, but his family had never been what one could consider 'close'.

He thinks of how John's been more family to him in the past few months than his brother, despite all his good intentions, had been in thirty three years.

He thinks of the Christmas party he'd gone to with Seb during uni, and how he'd been a more than a little disappointed when Seb refused to show Sherlock off as his date, or kiss him under the mistletoe. He'd tried to make up for it afterwards of course, with what he fancied was a very passionate Christmas Eve shag, but it was the principal of the thing.

He thinks of the presents stacked in the corner where the tree would go, neatly and lovingly wrapped, and of the card he gets each year from Mycroft with a short, polite message and a cheque.

He thinks how odd it is that this rather ordinary little man has come into his life so suddenly, quite by chance, and now they're going to spend Christmas together. Sherlock's first real Christmas.

Something softens in his expression, and he presses a kiss to John's snowy hair, twining their fingers together and shifting so they stand shoulder to shoulder.

"I think it's lovely."


End file.
